"
"It isn't an accusation at all--it's a fact," Crawshay replied.
"Luckily, he hadn't picked her up when I got there. He signalled our
exact location and our course a dozen times or more, without response.
Then I took a hand in the game."
"Exactly what happened?" the captain enquired.
"Well, I borrowed a key from Mr. Dix, and whilst the young man was
down at his supper I concealed myself in his bunk. I listened to him
for a short time, and then I intervened."
"Did he make any trouble?"
"He had no chance," Crawshay explained, a little grimly. "I was first
off the mark. On this piece of paper," he added, smoothing it out,
"you will find Robins' calculations as to our whereabouts, which I
took as being correct. These, you understand, were not picked up.
Lower down you will see the message which he sent under my
superintendence later on--"
"Superintendence?" the captain interrupted.
"At the point of my revolver," Crawshay explained. "This message was
picked up by the _Blucher_."
The captain scanned the calculations eagerly.
"Wish you'd given us a little more room," he muttered. "However, it
will be all right unless we get fog. We might blunder into one
another then."
"This little incident," Crawshay continued, crossing his legs,
"confirms certain impressions with which I came on board.
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